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Crying on Christmas E̶v̶e̶

(Nothing to see here.)

By Ángel SierraPublished 4 years ago • 1 min read
Profile of a woman in the shadows, her face dimly lit, glittery tears surround her eye.

I like to hide my things.

In an apartment, it's easy.

No one here likes to sing.

Everyone's usually busy.

•

Hiding things...

From significant others, or others.

It's all quite funny.

Except for the quarrels of brothers.

•

Maybe it doesn't matter

That I die from laughter...

That echo through these walls

To mark a death last fall by.

•

I said my goodbyes

Jumping on a redeye.

Trying not to show my

Own pair of red eyes.

•••

And when I landed,

Kind of like some Hallmark special town.

But I'd been—

I'd already come down,

So there was a fallout.

It was so hot out.

I couldn't breathe,

Couldn't believe what was behind me...

What would precede.

•••

Foreshadow.

Foresee...

Don't get to see no ending.

And

I swear,

It likes to keep us spinning.

It follows.

It smiles.

A shadow.

Your own.

Pastel seashell of crystals and flowers on a blue table.

•

I like to hide my things...

Like weaving a soul through a riddle.

There's always room to wiggle

If you can't ride the dream.

•

Ride the dream.

Waves come and go.

I hope you can stay.

I hope you know...

•

•

•

He said,

Don't go cryin' on Christmas Eve.

slam poetryheartbreaksad poetryartsocial commentarysurreal poetryperformance poetry

About the Creator

Ángel Sierra

Rhymes, riddles, and occasionally, she giggles.

Every-writer, it's all in me... DO LOOK DOWN!

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    Written by Ángel Sierra